


Sacrificial Lambs

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mention of Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape has always placed duty above his heart. This will never change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrificial Lambs

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal in 2005.

Severus Snape stood at yet another endless Death Eater meeting, his mask held loosely in the same hand that gripped his wand. The Dark Lord was going on about the “scourge of Mudbloods” and Snape was trying very hard to keep the words “that’s rich coming from you” from slipping into his consciousness. His legs ached though he knew how he would be punished if he moved; Bellatrix’s pratfall into the mud earlier had been testament to that, as was the strain that Snape was under for the semi-hysterical giggle which had welled in his throat and was only halted by Wormtail’s grating squeal. How the Dark Lord put up with these incompetents Snape could not imagine, though he wondered idly if He had taken to drink, so swaying were his movements. Side to side. Backwards and forwards. Snape’s Occlumency kicked in before he realised that He was doing his snake-like best to distract Snape. He tried to keep the panic contained; it would not do to fail now. Not after all this bloodshed.

Snape kept his head perfectly motionless, staring before him at a point just below Voldemort’s red eyes where ordinarily a nose would be. He blinked only when absolutely necessary and slowed his heartbeat to a crawl. Seemingly satisfied the Dark Lord nodded and swept out of the circle but Snape knew better than to relax his stance. Some people never learned though, as Voldemort whipped round without a sound and pointed a wand at Bellatrix who had been crawling towards her Master, trying to kiss the hem of his robes. She shouted out and gripped her head, which infuriated Him even more and soon the sounds of “Crucio” were echoing through the night sky, followed by the blinding light of Avada Kedavra directed at an unsuspecting Muggle.

The Dark Lord did not require Snape’s presence any further, for which Snape would have praised the Founders if he thought it would do any good. Instead he made his way to the house the Dark Lord had set aside for him as a reward for the Headmaster’s death. It was as gloomy as his own home, which had been considerably destroyed by Aurors after his disappearance, but it didn’t contain the old memories and was comfortable enough. He still had Wormtail under his feet most of the time but it appeared that the rat had finally wormed his way back into the Dark Lord’s good graces for he too had been invited to dine with Him this evening. Greyback was to be present and Snape had been allowed to return to work on his potions as a special favour for his diligent work. Snape knew there would be a price to pay for such a show of leniency on Voldemort’s part, but right now he could barely summon the effort to open the door, never mind care what addled thoughts were running through Voldemort’s brain.

And so he was too busy thinking of other things when he walked through the front door to realise at first that the candles were lit, and Remus Lupin was sitting in his favourite chair.

Remus braced himself for an onslaught of curses but Snape surprised him by merely sagging against the door as if he knew his time had finally run out.

“Severus?” asked Remus, slightly taken aback.

“Where are they then?”

“Who?”

“The Aurors. Hiding Tonks under the sofa are you?”

“Tonks is dead.”

The words slipped into the shadows as Snape tried to focus – no Aurors meant he could still find a way out of this.

“Dead?” he asked, inching slightly closer to the other man. “How?”

“Killed,” Remus said, raising up his own hands and showing Snape the palms. For one horrifying moment Snape thought that Remus had finally become a murderer until he spat out, “Greyback,” as if the very word on his tongue burnt like acid.

It was at this point that Snape took a good look at Remus. His hair was now more grey than brown, as if he had aged tenfold since Snape had last seen him, over six months ago. His robes were frayed but not as badly as before which suggested that either Lupin had learnt how to repair them properly or, more likely, they were a reluctantly accepted gift. From his fiancée no doubt.

“It’s my fault she’s dead.”

Snape rolled his eyes. “You cannot hold yourself responsible for every death caused by a werewolf.” What was it about Lupin that always led him into conversation?

“She wasn’t thinking straight. She went after the Pack and then stayed there rather than get backup. She couldn’t have noticed the full moon...” Snape snorted. “Kingsley was the one who found her...what was left of her anyway. I’ve never seen him so devastated, bet he wished the Minister had left him on Muggle-watching duty.” Remus let out a baleful sob.

“Why wasn’t she thinking?” Snape asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I’d finally broken off the engagement.”

“Oh?”

“Told her there was someone else, someone I couldn’t stop thinking about.”

“Black,” Snape spat.

“No,” and Remus looked up so that he could see Snape’s eyes, “you.”

“What is this nonsense?”

“I came here to be with you. I’ll…I’ll join Him if I have to.”

“Finite Incantatem!”

“I’m not under a spell, magical anyway.” Remus smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“How did you find me? Who sent you?” Snape’s eyes blazed with a cold, controlled fury as he held his wand at Lupin’s neck.

“Greyback sent me to kill you. He wants to get closer to Voldemort so he can kill him too. So you see, I can’t go back there, not if I fail. So I came to you. We know what you did Severus, Harry and Hermione and Ron, and Ginny…and me.” Another snort from Snape. “Dumbledore left some memories with his brother.”

“That’s all I need, one slip of the tongue and everything I have sacrificed will be for nought. Is that what you want, Lupin, murder by proxy?”

“No,” Lupin gasped, standing up. “I can’t stop thinking about you, out here, all alone. What you’ve done for the Order, for Harry. You should have told me. Why didn’t you tell me? I know things didn’t work out the way you wanted that night...I didn’t know what I was saying but it was so hard, I don’t know how you do it, spending all your time with them, but I suppose they’re no different than me, no different than the werewolves...”

Snape raised his hand and slapped Lupin so hard about the face that he fell back into his chair.

“What the hell?”

“You were hysterical, and no doubt, delusional. When you leave you may tell Greyback I bested you and have the mark to prove it.”

Slowly standing as he rubbed at his sore cheek Lupin took a few steps until he could feel Snape’s breath upon his face. “I’m not delusional.”

Snape turned his back on Lupin and proceeded to walk out toward the kitchen. Remus grabbed hold of Snape’s robes and jumped back as a Stinging Hex hit him in the chest.

“Don’t you dare lay a paw on me!”

They stood at an impasse for several minutes, each lost in wary thought. Tonks had been buried less than a day and Lupin realised now what a monumental error he had made. His emotions were far too raw for him to be battling the master of control. He had gone over and over in his head what he could say and how he could make everything right after That Night but he had forgotten how the Snape he longed for and the Snape that stood before him were two very different men.

Snape hunkered himself in layers of disappointment and disgust, carefully burying the sliver of lust that had escaped at Lupin’s touch. If not delusional then Lupin was certainly grief-stricken and Snape could thoroughly understand how that felt.

“You should go,” Snape finally told him.

“Yes, I should.”

“Lupin...”

“Ssh,” Lupin replied, silencing Snape by placing a finger on his mouth. “I’m sorry. We all just abandoned you, didn’t we? Sometimes it’s hard to remember that you’re human. You must miss being able to talk with someone, miss being touched...”

“I have gone without both for a considerable amount of time, I daresay I will manage.”

“I do have strong feelings for you, you know. Despite what I said before.”

“As have I, but that does not mean I love you.” Even the words said in mocking stuck in his throat. Lupin smiled, leant forward, and began to kiss a path along Snape’s jaw and down his throat, nipping at his collarbone.

“All this repression,” he murmured, lightly brushing his fingers along Snape’s arm, “you need to release it in a safe environment. So many people,” lick “are relying” bite “on you.” Suck. After what felt like an eternity Snape’s head fell back and he gave part of his control over to Lupin’s tongue, which was presently doing wicked things to his earlobe.

As soon as Lupin heard Snape begin to pant he moved, pressing Snape up against the kitchen door, his body anchoring Snape to him, and his mouth greedily sucking at Snape’s tongue. Snape tasted of things Unspeakable and long-quenched desire and Lupin thought he might collapse under the beauty of it. Snape thrust up against Lupin’s leg and wrapped his arms around the werewolf, pulling him closer, his tongue warring for dominance in their mouths. Lupin soon acquiesced and allowed Snape to continue to take back control, instead concerning himself with divesting Snape of as much of his clothing as possible. He could feel the heat between them rising until he realised that Snape had stilled completely and his own hand was resting, unconsciously, upon the Dark Mark on Snape’s arm. He was being summoned.

“You need to leave.” Was Lupin fooling himself or was there a flicker of regret in Snape’s eyes? “Now.”

“When can I see you again?” Lupin asked as he was pushed towards the back door.

“Never. You can never come here again.”

“But I can still...”

“No. Dammit Lupin, haven’t you endangered my life enough as it is?”

“But...”

“One foolish moment of weakness and my life is destroyed. And you, you...” Lupin leant up, cupped Snape’s snarling face in his hand and gently kissed him on the cheek.

“Be careful.”

Snape watched, momentarily stunned, as Lupin slipped out of the door and fled into the darkness. The Marks’ call brought him back to reality and he cursed himself, his mother and his father for their hopeless stupidity. How dare his mother make him believe that he could be loved. How dare his heart betray him.

Quickly, acutely aware that the longer he stayed away the harsher his punishment would be he removed a Pensieve from behind a stack of books and placed it on the table. He allowed himself a fleeting moment to remember Lupin's lips pressed against his own, a freely given arousal rubbing against him, before he pulled the memory from his mind and watched blankly as the silver thread dangled on the end of his wand. Swallowing all pretence that he would be able to treasure this memory, casting all hope aside, he threw the memory into the roaring fire where it turned to a blackened ash before his eyes.

With only despair and duty by his side he left to answer a call far stronger than that of his heart.


End file.
